Misplaced Trust
by Tay-21
Summary: What Philip wants Philip gets, Connor should have know that...    Abby/Connor and Connor/Burton.    WARNING:  Contains m/m non con, torture and violence.  If that's not your thing, then don't read.  Still Abby/Connor at heart though.  Please Read & Review
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** This story was written for the Primevalathon community over on LJ. The prompt from Wilde_Shade was: ****Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.**

**WARNING:**** This story contains violence, torture, and m/m ****non-con****. If that is not your thing, then don't read it. However, it is still an Abby/Connor story at heart, so I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. It is very clear in the story what is happening, but it is not overly porny or excessively graphic. This is a serious subject matter that I tried to address with some degree of decorum. I hope you enjoy the story. Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer:**** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. **

* * *

><p><strong>Misplaced Trust<strong>

**Chapter 1**

Connor sat in the back of the car silently contemplating his new discoveries. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the silent conversation occurring between Philip Burton and the two other men in the car. Connor didn't even really notice as the car sped off deeper into the countryside and left the lights of London behind. All his thoughts kept returning to one word… Convergence. What did that mean? For the anomalies? For the world? For the literal fabric of space and time? What would that look like?

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Philip Burton took a quick sideways glance at the young man in the backseat next to him. The all too trusting genius probably didn't even know what he had stumbled onto. Helen Cutter had told him this boy was smart. She had warned him that if any of them could work out what their plans for the anomalies were, it would be Connor Temple, especially now that Nick Cutter was out of the way.

When the two lovebirds and biggest threat to his plans had staggered, dirty and exhausted, through the anomaly, his initial thought had been to shut them out of the project all together. He had underestimated both them and James Lester. He didn't make that mistake again. Instead, he had put a tight reign on Connor and worked to drive a wedge between him and Abby Maitland. Philip had purposefully exploited the young man's obvious adoration for him. He had proved easy to manipulate and Philip had quite enjoyed doing it. He knew Connor didn't agree with all his decisions, but he was so willing to believe the best about him. Baby steps, Philip had told himself. Move the boy towards his agenda with baby steps.

Too bad Connor had discovered this major breakthrough so far ahead of schedule. Now he didn't have the luxury of turning Connor slowly and peacefully. He'd most likely have to resort to violence. He'd keep him isolated in a secluded location. Philip was confident that he and his men could convince Connor of what must be done. They'd break him if necessary. Philip smiled deviously to himself; he hoped it would be necessary. He hadn't broken anyone in a while and he had a suspicion that Connor would break very beautifully. He glanced over at Connor again; this time it was much more difficult to hide the predatory gleam in his eyes. The boy was still staring stupidly out the window, completely unaware that he'd willingly walked into the lion's den.

Oh yes, Philip was going to thoroughly enjoy this.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Connor roused himself with a shake. Where were they going? It seemed as if they'd been in the car for a long time. The sky had grown dark. Connor looked over at Philip.

"Where are we? Where're we going?"

"I thought it best if we had our discussion with as few interruptions as possible. My country estate seemed a good place. I hope that is OK? As I said, we have much to discuss."

"I need to call Abby. She'll be worried."

"By all means, we wouldn't want Abby to worry."

Connor pulled out his mobile. Nothing. No signal. _Damn!_ Something didn't feel right. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He looked around the car. The two men in the front, the driver and Philip's personal bodyguard sat staring out the front windscreen in silence. Philip was reading something on his iPhone.

"Do you have a signal?" Connor asked.

Philip's eyes moved to the top of the phone. "No, but out here in the country the signal if often very unreliable."

Connor nodded and sat back. "What if there's another anomaly?"

"I'm certain the core team can handle it. You and I have more important matters to see to," Philip replied.

"Are we almost there?"

"Yes!" Philip said, his annoyance at all the pestering questions showing through.

Connor, for once, took the hint. It had been a long day after all and Philip probably had a lot on his mind. Still he couldn't quite shake the niggling feeling that something was wrong. He glanced back down at his mobile. Still no signal. He returned to looking out at the dark landscape speeding by. There was a bit of lightning off in the distance. _Perfect,_ he thought sarcastically.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

About twenty minutes later, the car was gliding along beside a high, stone wall. A few minutes after that an ornate, automated gate swung smoothly and silently open next to a small manned guard-house and the driver guided the vehicle right up to the huge wooden double doors at the front of the stone mansion.

Connor, Philip and the two men got out of the SUV and Connor starred open-mouthed at the house, if one could call it that, in front of him. There were multiple gables and even a few turrets that, architecturally, made it resemble a sort of modern castle.

"Wow," Connor said flatly.

Philip smiled at him. "I was quite impressed with it myself the first time I laid eyes on the estate. I've, of course, made a few improvements and additions. I've added some security features as well as some science and engineering labs. There are a few other additions in the basement but we'll discuss those later. Right now, we need to get inside. Looks as if a storm is coming."

Connor glanced from the large house to the sky. The lightning was much closer and he suddenly heard the distinct rumble of thunder off in the distance. A cold gust of wind ruffled his hair and the scent of rain filled his nostrils. He took a deep breath and stepped into the warm light of Philip's entry hall.

Philip directed Connor to an opulent sitting room. Connor made a beeline for the phone. He picked up the receiver and… nothing. No dial tone, no busy signal, just silence. Connor sat on the couch and put his head in his hands; he was so tired. He felt Philip's hand on his shoulder as he had earlier, but he really just wanted Abby. There was another rumble of thunder outside.

"Connor, tell me. What have you found? Let's talk. Maybe the phones will be back up and running a little later, yeah?"

Connor nodded and proceeded to tell Philip everything he had worked out concluding with an impassioned plea for why they had to find a way to stop the anomalies.

Philip smiled back at him. "Are you certain that's what you want? I mean, have you ever stopped to consider what could be gained by learning how to control them instead of stopping them all together? What we could accomplish… together, your brains, my money. There is a broad new horizon out there."

Connor laughed. "You sound kind of like Helen Cutter." He looked up at Philip and his face fell as he realized Philip was serious. "You're serious. You want to try and control them? You can't. I've seen the future. The only hope we have is to try and stop them."

Philip glanced over Connor's shoulder and nodded. "I'm really sorry you feel that way. You truly are a good man, and that's unfortunate."

Connor's eyes widened, but before he could respond one of Philip's guards grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Connor cried out as a sharp needle was plunged into his neck. Everything started to feel numb and heavy.

"I trusted you… I… I trusted…"

Philip stood up and loomed over him, smiling down at him as always. "You'll soon see things my way, Connor. I'll make sure of it. Just remember, the more you resist, the more painful and… unpleasant this is going to be."

Connor's last glimpse was of Philip reaching down to stroke and pat his cheek affectionately. His eyes slid closed and he descended into blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**** This story was written for the Primevalathon community over on LJ. The prompt from Wilde_Shade was: ****Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.**

**WARNING:**** This story contains violence, torture, and m/m ****non-con****. If that is not your thing, then don't read it. However, it is still an Abby/Connor story at heart, so I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. It is very clear in the story what is happening, but it is not overly porny or excessively graphic. This is a serious subject matter that I tried to address with some degree of decorum. I hope you enjoy the story. Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer:**** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. **

* * *

><p><strong>Misplaced Trust<strong>

**Chapter 2**

Connor's head was pounding. "Abby?" he called. No answer. A strange clanking occurred with each minute movement he made. Where was he? Where was Abby? Nausea continually washed over him until he had to try and expel it. He rolled on to his side and that sent him over the edge. He retched again and again, culminating in dry agonizing heaves. Connor had finally managed to get his eyes open and, as he took in his surroundings, all his memories came flooding back.

_Philip!_ Philip had betrayed him. He wanted to take control of the anomalies for his own selfish gain, not stop them. Connor was locked in a small stone enclosure. The clanking had come from chains that were secured to his wrists and ankles and anchored to the stone wall. They were made of heavy iron and were already rubbing a red ring into his skin. What was Philip playing at? He reached into his back pocket. No black box. He checked his other pockets. Nothing. No mobile, no wallet, no keys, no detector, not even the ring around his neck was there. He rested his head back on the concrete floor. His head really hurt. His eyes alighted on a tiny window high up and out of reach. There was no light coming in. In fact, there wasn't much light at all, just a small amount seeping in around the solid metal door.

Well, he had certainly got himself into a fine predicament this time. No matter what, he couldn't help Philip. He would not help him! Gah! How could he have been so stupid? He should have listened to Abby. He tried to pull himself into a seated position. It took a lot of effort due to his continuously pounding head. He closed his eyes to try to alleviate some of the discomfort.

Connor jumped when he heard the door open. His eyes snapped open as in walked Philip Burton, two guards and a man who looked strangely like a doctor.

"Good evening, Connor," greeted Philip brightly. Connor stared back mutely at him, feeling fury rise in him. Philip took notice of the puddle of sick not far from where Connor sat. "Ah, yes, unfortunately, the drug you were injected with does have some unfortunate side effects. Are you feeling better now that it's leaving your system?"

"Go to hell," Connor spat at him.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's really not what I was hoping to hear from you. But then again, you've only been awake for a bit. I suppose the full gravity of your situation hasn't sunk in quite yet." Philip looked Connor dead in the face. "It will, and you will see things my way. How long that takes, and how… uncomfortable it is will depend entirely upon you, though."

At these words, Philip turned his attention to the doctor and gave a silent nod. The guards moved as one and seized Connor's arms and legs. They manhandled him into position so that he was stretched out on his back on the floor of the cell. He struggled and squirmed, thrashing against the men holding him. The doctor knelt down next to the immobilized prisoner. He pulled out a syringe and two vials of chemicals.

"Philip, please. What are you doing? Just let me go. I won't tell anyone what's happened. You can make this right. Just stop this. Please!"

Philip watched him intently as the doctor prepared the injection. "Relax, Connor. We're just going to make you a little uncomfortable for a while. I'm not going to kill you. You're far too important. So, we'll have to work around that. Since you have clearly made up your mind against me, I'll just have to convince you otherwise. Help you see the error of your ways. I've tried being deferential with you, now it's time to take the gloves off."

The doctor pulled out a pair of surgical scissors and, while the two guards kept iron grips on his wrists and ankles, deftly cut the sleeve of Connor's shirt open from wrist to collar. He sliced easily through the long sleeve of the dark grey undershirt and the short rust colored outer shirt.

"Please," Connor begged. The doctor picked up the syringe and an alcohol swab. He cleansed a point on Connor's shoulder and the positioned the syringe. "No, no, no, no, no. Please. Ahhh!" The doctor pushed the needle into the muscled flesh and depressed the plunger. Connor hissed and whimpered. The two guards released him and he pulled away from them sitting up against the wall and drawing his knees up to his chest. His right hand instinctively went up and covered the sore spot on his left arm where the injection had been given. His shirt hung open, exposing his arm and upper chest. "What did you do? What did you put in me?"

Philip watched him closely for a few moments, as if waiting for something to happen. And then Connor felt it. A pounding started in his head while at the same time intense cramps and a powerful wave of nausea slammed into his stomach. He groaned and curled in upon himself, sliding over onto his side, both arms held tightly against his stomach. He moaned and rocked himself in an effort to stave off the bile he felt rising up in his throat. He couldn't do it; he leaned forward and vomited again. His stomach was already mostly empty from lack of food and his earlier bout with nausea. Still, cloudy yellow bile poured from him and when there was no more stomach acid he dry heaved again and again. His head pounded and sweat dripped off of him. He shivered violently as chills wracked his body. He looked up and met the icy cold eyes of Philip Burton.

"I won't bore you with the details, but basically one of the chemicals will keep awake for the next several hours, and one will make you very ill for the next several hours. You should know, Connor, that this is only step one." Philip stood up from where he had crouched down in front of Connor. He left the room along with his guards, not even bothering to look back.

The doctor took out his stethoscope and checked Connor's heart rate. "Take a deep breath, please," he asked. Connor was panting from the nausea, vomiting and intense headache. He spat and attempted to do as the doctor asked. As he did so, another brutal wave of nausea swept through him. While Connor convulsed with more dry heaves, the doctor smiled down at him. "Excellent. Exactly as your response should be with that combination of meds in your system," he said as he put away his stethoscope.

The doctor left and the door was locked behind him. Connor was left on his own curled up in a fetal position, rocking to trying to ease his discomfort. For hours the wave upon wave of nausea, cramps, vomiting and constant headaches kept him huddled on the floor in his own filth. He desperately hoped that someone would find him; hoped that rescue would be swift in coming.

Over and over he kept coming back and asking himself the same question. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not seen right through Philip. Abby had. Abby. She must be so worried about him. Or maybe he'd done enough that she didn't even care anymore. He was so stupid. How had he let Philip charm him like that? He'd been so blinded by the man's persona and charisma, by the **idea** of Philip Burton. He should have listened to Abby. No wonder she'd thought him such a groupie. It wasn't funny anymore. Philip clearly had malicious intentions and Connor had played right into them. God! How could he have been so stupid, so blind? Round and round his contemplations went, always returning to the same self loathing line of thought.

As the light in his cell began to increase, he glanced up at the window high above him. It must be dawn, he concluded. The door opened to his cell and he flinched involuntarily. A food tray was set in front of him: water, cheese, crackers, an apple, and a cup of chicken-noodle soup.

"Eat, or we'll force it down your throat," the man growled in warning before locking the door and walking off.

Connor listened for the man's footsteps to have fully retreated before crawling over to the food. He was really hungry but he was terrified they'd just make him sick again. His painfully empty stomach betrayed him. He started with the crackers and then the apple. He finished with the soups and nibbled on the cheese. He swallowed the whole glass of water in almost one go. Connor once again curled up in a ball and tried to sleep.

Connor woke abruptly when the door creaked open again and Philip, his thugs, and the doctor came in again. Connor sat up and stared back at Philip. The guards took hold of him again and stretched him out like before.

"Please. Not again, please," he begged, though his struggles were much reduced.

"I told you, this doesn't end, and will only get worse until you have a… let's say… change of heart."

"You'll never get away with this, Philip. They will find me, and then you'll pay. You can't possibly think you'll actually succeed. You can't control the anomalies. You can't! I've seen the future, it doesn't work!" He cried out again as the injection was given once again in his left shoulder. This time, the doctor didn't even stay.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

The cycle was repeated day in and day out: injection, sick, eat, sleep, injection. He usually got to see the rising light of dawn before they brought him his food and let him sleep. He guessed it had been about five days, but he really couldn't be sure. He had reached the point where he whimpered and cried through the entire sick period, but he refused to cry in front of Philip and his men. Days ago they had cut the other sleeve of his shirt open so as to alternate the injection sites. His clothes were ragged and filthy. The chains on his wrists and ankles had worn the flesh underneath completely raw.

Connor gritted his teeth and steeled himself against another day of torment. He lay passively on the floor for them to come in and hold him down. It didn't come. He grew more and more paranoid as he waited for the door to open. When it finally did, he was so panicked that he backed all the way up against the wall and huddled in a little ball. He was so worked up from the change in his routine, that he was now beyond terrified.

Philip came in and, wrinkling his nose against the smell, crouched down in front of Connor. "Hmmm, clearly this is getting us nowhere. My god, you stink. You simply cannot stay in those clothes any longer. I'd offer you a change of clothes, but I don't think I have anything in your… smaller size." Philip shrugged.

Connor was confused. What did Philip mean by that?

Philip stood and addressed his men. "Take him. Make sure he's cleaned up before you start the next phase."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**** This story was written for the Primevalathon community over on LJ. The prompt from Wilde_Shade was: ****Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.**

**WARNING:**** This story contains violence, torture, and m/m ****non-con****. If that is not your thing, then don't read it. However, it is still an Abby/Connor story at heart, so I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. It is very clear in the story what is happening, but it is not overly porny or excessively graphic. This is a serious subject matter that I tried to address with some degree of decorum. I hope you enjoy the story. Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer:**** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. **

* * *

><p><strong>Misplaced Trust<strong>

**Chapter 3**

"What? What are you doing?" Connor asked in alarm. Not knowing what was coming next was starting to wear him down. "Where are you taking me?" Connor demanded as they unlocked the chains holding him and dragged him to his feet. No one would talk to him. He tried to struggle but he was too weak.

The guards frog-marched him down the hall to another room, this one with no windows and an open drain in the centre of it. There were a of couple of oddly shaped tables and chains hanging from various places in the room, including right over the drain pipe. It was to this location that they hauled Connor. They held his arms in bruising, vice-like grips as they secured fresh chains around his raw wrists. He cried out involuntarily when his arms were yanked upwards, over his head and he kicked his legs out violently as they heaved him up off the ground.

"Now, now boys. That's not necessary," Philip drawled from the doorway as he stepped lightly into the room. Connor gritted his teeth as he was lowered down until his toes grazed the floor just enough that he could press up and relieve a bit of the strain in his wrists and shoulders. "Perfect! Relax, Connor. We're just going to get you out of those clothes and give you a wash. You'll feel much better when we're done."

The men pulled what was left of Connor's shirt down passed his hips where it pooled around his feet. His boots had been taken from him days ago, so his socks came off next. Connor started to struggle again when he realized they intended to take everything off. One of the men, a big burly bloke that looked like he'd played a little too much rugby, grabbed his hair and held his head back. Connor bit his lip as the man ran the pudgy fingers of his other hand up and down his crotch before popping the button and lowering the zip. Connor squeezed his eyes shut. He was determined not to cry or whimper; he was just so tired though.

Being stripped down to nothing in front of Philip, his men and the doctor was incredibly humiliating. No matter how tightly he shut his eyes or how hard he ground his teeth together, he couldn't stop the crimson flush that spread across his pale shoulders and up his neck and face to his hairline as his filthy trousers and boxers were pulled down and then completely off of him. He bit his lip and kept his eyes closed. He could hear them laughing and commenting as he tried to desperately shut out what was happening to him. He kept his eyes shut as he attempted to quell the swell of emotion that threatened to overtake him. He would not cry. He wouldn't. He fought with everything in him to keep that reaction to himself. He would survive. He'd survive with dignity… he hoped.

He still had his eyes closed when a powerful and painful jet of freezing cold water hit him full in the face. He spluttered and tried to twist away, his feet finding no purchase on the wet floor. The water quickly progressed from freezing cold to burning hot and he struggled all the more. The water constantly alternated between one extreme and another so as to keep his body from acclimating to the temperature. Connor screamed each time the water reached the peak of one of these temperature boundaries. Rough brushes with soap on them scraped over his skin as the water was blasted into his face every few seconds. They rinsed him off and their hands slid over his body as the soap washed down the drain. One of them once again took hold of his hair and held him still as the water poured into his face. Every tiny second he could manage he sucked in air. He coughed and struggled against the hold on his hair. With the water spraying into his face, he couldn't see. It was the most horrifying experience he'd ever had. He decided, in that moment, that he'd never want to drown, better a bullet to the head then that fate.

Finally, they let him breathe, really breathe. He shook his head to try to clear some of the water from his ears while he sucked in huge lungfuls of air.

Philip walked over to where he hung dripping wet and gasping. "Hmm. That's better. At least the smell is gone."

Connor was weak and angry. He glared back at Philip. His humiliation had clearly blossomed into rage and he kicked out with all his strength catching Philip in the knee and then growling in frustration; he'd been aiming for his crotch.

The response from Philip's men was instantaneous. They held him still and punched him repeatedly.

"That's enough," Philip snarled. He picked up an electric baton and came and stood in front of Connor who was trembling with a combination of fury, fear and pain. "It's nice to know you haven't vomited all your fighting spirit up. I told you that the more you resist the more painful it will get. Now, I'm going to show you."

Connor cried out as Philip tapped him with the baton lightly on his chest. The jolt sent spasms down through his muscles, convulsions that burned and made him feel like every muscle was being pulled at the same time. His whole body swayed and he yelled out in pain. Finally, the spasms slowed and he panted for air, swaying slightly still. Philip walked around behind him. Connor shivered, still wet and terrified that the Philip was going to use the baton again. Philip lightly grazed his spine with his fingertips. Connor flinched, expecting the baton.

"You know, they say that using these batons is completely non-lethal... provided you follow the directions. I'm more of a think outside the box guy, but still, I can work with guidelines," Philip said calmly, as if he were having a casual conversation about the weather and not talking about torturing an unarmed naked man suspended in front of him. "For instance, the most effective points for temporarily immobilizing someone are here…" Connor screamed as the weapon was used on the upper portion of his shoulder. "And here…" He tensed but all he felt was Philip's hand lightly touching his upper hip. He trembled violently both from the muscle spasms and from fear of where he would use the baton next. Philip circled back around in front of him. "Also here…" He touched the baton to the tender area just below Connor's rib cage. Connor saw white and screamed again. There were little double burns on his still wet flesh where the baton had touched him.

He was completely exhausted. He felt like he'd been run over and then the truck had backed up and run him over again. Every muscle in his body ached. It was like he'd run a marathon, but all he'd done was hang there.

"I imaging you're quite tired already," Philip stated. "You see, this device is designed to wear a person out and stop them as quickly as possible. I've heard that if you use this baton on certain body parts, it's even more painful than what I've already done to you."

Connor whimpered in spite of his promise to himself. Philip reached his free hand down and stroked Connor's cock. His fingers moved back and gently fondled his balls.

"Should we find out if that's true?"

"No! Please, God! No!" Connor panted out. He wanted to scream, but he didn't even have the energy to do that anymore. All the fight was gone from him. He was utterly and completely worn out.

"Are you starting to understand, Connor? I haven't even broken a sweat whereas you are well on your way to needing another shower. Are you still going to try and resist me? We could do this for days, you know?" Philip was efficient, if anything. Connor understood what he wanted and that Philip was going to use the necessary amount of force required to get it. Connor hung limp and panting, his head had fallen forward as he tried to catch his breath. He needed to think, needed time.

"Please. No more, just let me rest. Let me breathe, please."

"I need an answer, Connor, and I'm growing impatient. Will you continue to resist me, or can we come to an arrangement? It doesn't have to be like this. I have a lab and nice room all set up for you. You'd be in charge of your own research. None of this is necessary. Just see things my way. The amount of good we could do."

"I can't," Connor sobbed. "Don't you get it? I will not be responsible for the future I saw. I can't help you. Please, don't make me." Connor looked up at Philip, his eyes pleading with him to see reason, to stop this madness.

Philip's smile shifted from genial and fatherly to predatory in a split second. "Well, if you insist. However, I don't think that physical pain is going to be enough. You're a lot tougher than people give you credit. So, I'm going to let my men do what they have wanted to do to you from the moment they first locked you up." Philip nodded to his men and they moved into action, each one with a rapacious gleam in his eye.

Connor tried to struggle as he was unchained and dragged over to one of the oddly shaped tables at the side of the room. He was bent over it and his arms were pulled sharply behind his back. They secured them there with a cable-tie and a hook was slipped between his hands. He cried out as his arms were pulled up behind him, forcing him to stay bowed over the small table. One of the men kicked his legs apart and Connor flushed with humiliation once again as his spread legs were strapped into place. His torso was tied down against the table so that Connor was now completely immobilized. He panted from his struggling while trying to look around behind him. Philip was suddenly at his head, holding a fist of his hair so that his neck craned back to look up at him.

"Please don't do this," Connor begged.

"I'm fairly certain it is the only way to get your attention properly focused. You will see things my way, and you will start obeying my wishes. You will learn obedience, or you will suffer more," Philip replied casually. Philip held up an object that Connor had only seen in his late nights surfing the web as a college student. The spider gag, with its metal circle and four metal legs arching out from the ring, hung heavy from Philip's hand. "This is to counter any ideas you might have about biting my people while they are carrying out their duties with you."

Connor tried desperately to struggle and pull away from Philip's grasp, but the manner in which he was restrained prevented any of that. He tried to beg and plead, but Philip soon had him gagged.

"I really am sorry it had to come to this, Connor, but you'll see things differently tomorrow. I'm certain of it."

Connor sobbed and fought his bonds some more.

"Do keep struggling, it turns them on so much more," Philip said as he opened the door to the small room. Waiting outside the room were several more men than just Philip's two bodyguards. "He's all yours boys, be gentle though, I don't think he's ever had the pleasure of this experience before. I don't want any permanent damage, so I mean that. Don't play too rough." With that warning, Philip left the room.

Connor strained and squirmed, trying desperately to form the words for them to stop, to let him go, to plead for them not to do this too him. He spent the next two hours choking and screaming while his body was brutally used. It hurt more than he could have ever thought possible. The violations he endured were beyond anything he had ever feared in the Cretaceous. By the time they chained him back in his cell, which had been washed out from when he was last in there, he truly believed he would have rather been eaten by that Spinosaurus than go through any more of that level of physical and sexual abuse and rape. He curled up in the corner and sobbed. He would cry himself to sleep for a few hours and then he'd wake up screaming from the nightmares of what he'd just been through. How could Philip, a man he'd idolized for years, do this too him. How had he been so stupid as to trust someone that cruel, that sick? What did that say about who Connor was? Inevitably he would descend into sobs again and the whole cycle would repeat.

He went through three days of this. He would be fed first thing, then hosed off in the washroom, then tied to the table and his body viciously used again and again; finally he would be chained up in his cell again, sweaty and covered in human filth, until the next morning.

On the fourth day he was fed and dragged back to the washroom. They cleaned him up and strapped him back down again. Never once had Philip come down to the dungeon rooms during the three previous days, so he was a bit surprised when he appeared in front of him and gently stroked the hair back from his face.

"I told you it would get worse. I also told you it doesn't have to be this way. Let me show you what I mean."

Connor whimpered as Philip disappeared from his field of vision. He felt the man's hands caressing his arse. He then heard the sound of a zip being lowered and Connor suddenly knew exactly what Philip was going to show him. He tried to fight the intrusion, tried desperately to shut himself off from this experience, but somehow, the fact that it was actually Philip that was doing this to him, was worse. He cried out passed his gag as Philip entered him. He couldn't go somewhere else in his head this time, not with the man he had so wanted to please moving inside of him and telling him how good he felt. Not when Philip's hand moved from his hip down to his cock. To Connor's everlasting shame, not only did he get an erection from Philip's careful and apparently practiced manipulation of his body, but after barely five minutes Connor came, quite hard, across Philip's hand. A few moments later Philip seized and came as well, pumping hard into Connor's abused passage.

Connor lay on the table with his cheek pressed against its cool surface. Tears flowed down his cheeks to mingle in a puddle of drool from his forced open mouth. He'd broken all his rules about not crying in front of Philip and his men. He had nothing left. He'd just come while the man he hated most in the world, his captor and tormentor, raped him. He didn't even know who Connor Temple was anymore. He was lost.

His arms were lowered from their forced position, he wasn't free, but he wasn't strained either. The straps holding his legs were also removed. Fingers gently removed the leather strap and gingerly pulled the metal ring from his mouth.

Philip's face swam into view but Connor's eyes didn't stay focused for long. Philip gently caressed his cheek and kissed his temple. "See, Connor, that wasn't so bad. I even made sure you received some pleasure out of it. We can be a good team, you and I. I know we'd work well together. We've done it before."

Connor focused a bit on Philip. It was like he was seeing him through a pool of water. He knew he was there, he could hear him talking, but he just couldn't make sense of it all. Nothing made sense anymore. Not after the last several days, not after the last several minutes. Another tear silently slid down his cheek.

Who was he? What was the point in fighting? So he could suffer more? Connor couldn't even really remember what or who he was fighting for. Maybe Philip wasn't the one responsible for that horrible future he'd seen. Maybe Connor could still do some good if he worked for Philip. Connor knew he would not survive another day of being gang-raped by Philip's goons. He could rationalize the thought that if he worked for Philip, he'd be the one in charge of the discoveries. Connor would never let anything bad happen. He'd be protecting the future. If it was someone else, who knew what would happen. Maybe this really was the best thing. Maybe. Philip was talking again.

"… you going to cooperate now? I want you by my side, Connor. It's where you belong. Can we be a team, or are you still going to be the plaything for my men?"

"No!" Connor choked out. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever it is you want. I just can't take any more of that. Please, let me prove it to you. I'll be good. I'll cooperate. Just put me back in a lab and I'll do whatever you ask."

"Whatever I ask, eh? That's tempting. I think I'm going to make you prove that, Temple."

"Yes, make me prove it. Anything. Just ask. I'll do it."

Philip smiled down at him and lowered the zip on his trousers again, freeing his already recovered and half-hard cock. Connor balked. He looked up at Philip through watery eyes.

"You said anything," Philip purred, laying a hand on Connor's cheek. "Don't worry, it won't be like before. I'll be much more gentle than my men. But I want you to prove that you mean what you say. I'll even give you the benefit of the doubt and leave the gag off. I'm sure you have a very talented tongue, show me what you can do. Show me how loyal you really are."

Connor nodded and blanked his mind to everything except the job at hand. Abby tried to jump into his vision and that threatened to overwhelm him. He stuffed her image down deep into his psyche and focused on the cock bobbing in front of his face. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The only thing he let his mind think on was what his tongue, lips, teeth and throat need to do to get the job done.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**** This story was written for the Primevalathon community over on LJ. The prompt from Wilde_Shade was: ****Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.**

**WARNING:**** This story contains violence, torture, and m/m ****non-con****. If that is not your thing, then don't read it. However, it is still an Abby/Connor story at heart, so I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. It is very clear in the story what is happening, but it is not overly porny or excessively graphic. This is a serious subject matter that I tried to address with some degree of decorum. I hope you enjoy the story. Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer:**** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. **

* * *

><p><strong>Misplaced Trust<strong>

**Chapter 4**

Abby sat in the menagerie staring down at the mammoth. She spent most of her time here of late. She could cry here and the creatures never judged her. Connor had been missing for almost ten weeks. She knew the statistics. He was probably dead. No! She couldn't believe that. Surely she would have felt it if something had happened to Connor.

Wouldn't she?

She wasn't so sure any more. Things had been strained between them before his disappearance. She'd blamed Philip, something in her gut told him he was guilty, that he had something to do with it. That hideously fake, plastic, benign smile he always wore on his face was just a façade. So what if she didn't have any proof. She knew, and he'd admitted that he was the last person to see Connor. Philip Burton had been very cooperative with the investigation, too cooperative in Abby's opinion. Becker and Matt had both sworn to her they'd get him back. Philip had stated that Connor had been fiddling with one of the anomaly devices, and had speculated that Connor had simply disappeared through an anomaly of his own making. Abby didn't buy that for a minute. Still, that hadn't stopped her from going to every anomaly call hoping he'd show up. She had descended into such a deep depression that Lester had ordered her into therapy.

She leaned her head on the cool glass of the window looking into the menagerie. She was so lost without him. Why had she been so snappish with him? She should have listened to him, validated him. She should have given him the benefit of the doubt. Fresh sobs swept over her. What if she never saw him again? What if he really was gone… for good this time? She couldn't bear the thought of that.

Five hours later Matt and Becker found her curled up on the floor of her lab in the menagerie still sobbing. Jess had located her and sent them to get her. No amount of consoling from the two would help. Connor was gone and she didn't know how to move forward. She didn't know how to be her without him. He was a part of her; she wasn't whole without him. No one noticed her vibrating phone and the message indicator light flashing in the corner…

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Connor sat in his lab staring at all the data and mechanical kit in front of him. Philip had made him a deal seven weeks ago, and Connor had lived up to it… until now.

The deal was one of compromise. Connor had been given a choice: he could continue to fight and resist, stay in the dungeon-like cell and be the plaything of Philip's men, all of them; or he could cooperate, have his own lab and direct his own work in exchange for staying with Philip. It turned out that the nice bedroom that had been promised was Philip's. Connor had been horrified at first, but the trade-off was better than being almost constantly brutalized and raped by Philip's goons.

Philip had pounded into Connor every single night for the first couple of weeks, occasionally even tying him down, just to drive the message home: Connor was his; he belonged to Philip. Every morning Connor was expected to reciprocate with a show of loyalty in the form of a blowjob. He'd broken and they both knew it.

Connor had retreated in on himself. He worked harder than ever in an attempt to distract himself from his waking nightmare, taking solace in the argument that he was continuing Cutter's work. Philip, for his part, held nothing back, save giving Connor contact with the outside world. Connor was given every piece of equipment he'd asked for, all of it top of the line. His research was progressing nicely because of it.

After the first few weeks and Connor's show of progress and cooperation, Philip backed off their nightly trysts. Instead, Connor slept curled up next to him with Philip's arm possessively and oppressively draped over him.

Nights were the worst for Connor, he had never been a light sleeper, but now he found he had terrible trouble sleeping. And, with Philip there, he didn't even have the luxury of tossing and turning. He thought about Abby a lot during those long dark nights. As much as he tried to keep her locked away in his mind, because he missed her so desperately, he also took solace from her smiles that his mind's eye conjured. In his head, he tried to remember what she sounded like, what she tasted like, and what she smelled like; but it was getting harder and harder.

As time continued and the weeks passed, the sexual activity with Philip mercifully slowed to once every other day, then once every few days, to now about once a week. Connor was always tense and on edge, like a dog waiting to be kicked again. Fear and depression were his constant companions. He had stopped hoping for rescue; no one was coming. He wasn't even sure anyone was looking. It didn't matter; they'd never find him. Not unless he did something. But, if he did something and got caught… Could he survive what ever they would do to him? Did he want to survive any more?

These were the questions he'd been wrestling with for the past few weeks. He hadn't really been able to do anything about it until this afternoon. And then, he'd made a snap decision.

His first major invention had been the anomaly detector, a Sat-Nav, as Leek had called it. This was almost the opposite, more of a homing beacon/mobile phone. He couldn't dial, but he could send out a signal on a frequency that **should** ping Abby, Matt, or Becker's phone… he hoped. Hell, he'd even take Lester at this point. He'd finished it, constructing it to resemble a detector, set the frequency, and then pushed the button, not even letting himself debate it. He couldn't live like this, a prisoner and a plaything.

After pushing the button he'd gone on about his work as if he hadn't just broken the deal that kept him from being gang-raped again and again. His fingers trembled slightly as he worked on a new device, one that was almost done. It was an anomaly predictor; he almost had the pattern finished. It was revolutionary. He knew it would have taken him years to develop had it not been for the resources provided to him by Philip and the driving focus he'd so kindly instilled in him over the past two-and-a-half months. He felt guilty about betraying him. Despite everything that had happened, Connor was no Judas; even now duplicity didn't sit well with him. It also didn't help that now that the act was done he was terrified that they'd catch him and hurt him again. He didn't want to go back in that dungeon cell.

Connor jumped a few minutes later when the door to his lab opened up and Philip came in. Connor gave him a nervous smile and then swallowed hard when Philip was followed by, not just his ever-present body guard, but two more burly thugs of his as well. They knew, he thought, panicking. He looked down at the worktop to try and ignore the fear coursing through him; in the process he accidentally upset a stack of papers and a glass of water.

"You seem a little jumpy this afternoon, Connor. You also look a little pale. Well, paler than normal, that is," Philip said as he walked over behind Connor and rested his hands on Connor's shoulders. Connor flinched and then winced at his inability to pretend as if nothing had happened.

"Now, now," Philip demurred. "I thought we were past all that." Philip rubbed Connor's shoulders lightly and nuzzled the back of his neck with his nose. "Tell me, Connor, is there anything you need? Anything you are lacking in this lab?" he asked quietly.

Connor shook his head and swallowed again. "No, sir."

"Have you wanted for food or water since we came to our little arrangement?"

"No, sir."

Philip licked his neck behind his ear then continued. "Is there a problem with your accommodations? Am I not good enough for you? Don't I make sure that you are just as satisfied as I am every time we're together? I've been very careful not to hurt you, haven't I?" Philip's hand slid down to Connor's left wrist.

Connor swallowed convulsively, this couldn't be good. "Y-Yes, sir."

Philip's demeanour changed in an instant. His right fist tangled into Connor's hair, yanking his head back, while the hand holding his wrist wrenched it up behind Connor's back, twisting it painfully. "Then why did my sensors detect a communications transmission from your lab which possesses no such means of communication?" Philip growled into Connor's ear.

Connor cried out as Philip pulled his arm up further. "Please, you're hurting me. My arm, you're going to break it. Stop. Ow, please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just didn't think. I'm sorry." Connor screamed as Philip twisted his arm even further. There was a tell tale snap as Connor's arm fractured.

"Perhaps you need reminding of who is in control here. Maybe hurting you isn't enough motivation!" He bent Connor over the table and held him there, his left arm still bent up behind him and throbbing. "You know, Connor, I go to the ARC on a fairly regular basis. I could arrange for an accident to befall Miss Maitland. Or, better yet, I could have her brought here. I'm sure my men are tired of only having your worn out arse as a prospect to bugger. I bet they'd enjoy your tight little girlfriend. She practices yoga, right? Very flexible, imagine what we could do with that? It might be good to have a new toy to play with around here."

"No! Please, I swear, it won't happen again. Please, leave Abby alone. She's been through enough. I swear… I'll dismantle it. I'll never use it again."

"Show me. Show me what you built and what you did with it."

Philip yanked Connor upright and released his arm while still keeping a hold of his hair. Connor reached into a drawer with his good arm and pulled out his disguised beacon device. One of the guards snatched it from him and broke it open.

"It sends a distressed signal on a particular frequency. I was aiming for Abby, but I don't even know if it worked. I just pushed the activator button and then put it away. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please, just don't hurt Abby. I'll forget about her. I'll never think about her again. I know what I did was wrong—"

Philip shook him by his hair, the motion jarring his fractured arm. "Shut up you idiot!" Philip snarled. "My god, Connor, you really are a genius, aren't you? A stupid one, but a genius nonetheless."

He shook Connor a little more and Connor cried out in pain. Burton just shook him harder.

"Take him downstairs and strip him. You can play with him for the rest of the day." Philip almost threw Connor to his thugs. "Oh, and make sure he sees the error of his ways. Use the cane this time. I'm going to go make a few phone calls."

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Connor knelt on the floor completely restrained. He couldn't have moved from his forced position even if he'd wanted to. His arms were once again cable-tied behind him and pulled up by a hook, keeping the excruciating pressure on his fractured arm. His ankles were bound together, but his knees were spread slightly. An iron collar, like the chains he'd worn when Philip first locked him up, was locked around his neck and connected to the floor via a short chain. They'd gagged him with a ball gag and blindfolded him. His pale skin was now decorated with bright red weals all over him along with a handful of double-dotted burn marks. Still, nothing had been done to him that would result in his death. He breathed steadily in and out and waited for his tormentors to return.

Would they have Abby? Would Philip have already hurt her? Would they do to her what they had spent several hours doing to him… again? Would they make him watch? Make him listen to her scream while they violated her? How could he have been so stupid and careless again? He didn't know Philip had still been maintaining a presence at the ARC. He'd assumed Philip had cut ties with the project once he'd acquired Connor. He should have known better. Philip had a contingency plan for everything. He seemed to always be 20 steps ahead. And now Abby would pay the price for his ignorance. Despair overwhelmed him once more. There was no way out. No escape. It was hopeless, truly hopeless.

It had been hours. He had no way of knowing for certain how long it had been, but he instinctively knew it had been a long time. He wondered why they'd left him alone for so long. His whole body hurt from what they'd done to him and the position he'd been kept in. Sweat dripped off of him and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He desperately hoped they'd come and at least let him out of his kneeling posture. He didn't dare let himself cry, it might further hinder his ability to breathe.

The door to his cell opened and he couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped him nor the cringe that swept through his body.

"Connor?" came a small sweet voice. A voice he dreaded hearing and a voice he had wanted to hear more than anything. "Oh, my god! Connor!"

He shook his head and began to cry. No! She couldn't be here. They can't have got her. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn't keep the waves of emotion at bay any longer. He'd lost everything and now Abby would lose everything too. They'd break her like they'd broken him. Her fierce spirit would be broken. It was over. He didn't think he could bear to watch it. He knew couldn't survive it.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Abby ran to where Connor knelt in his chains. Tears blurred her vision as she took in the sight of his bruised and battered body. His left arm looked oddly shaped and was a violent shade of purple. He was sobbing, and uncontrollably so. My God, what have they done to him, she asked silently. Abby knelt next to him and gently placed her fingers on his shoulder. He flinch and her tears began to slip down her cheeks.

"It's all right, baby. I'm here. Just hang on a moment. It's going to be OK," Abby soothed. She worked to try and get him untied, but the moment she moved his arm he cried out in agony. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do."

She reached under his chin and unclipped the chain holding his head so close to the ground. She then unfastened the blindfold over his eyes. Lastly she unfastened the gag in his mouth and carefully pulled out the ball from between his teeth.

"Sweetheart?" She stroked his forehead and brushed his lank hair back from his face. "Please, baby. Look and me and tell me what's wrong? Connor. Open your eyes."

Connor's eyes fluttered and then his chocolate-brown eyes opened and he stared up at her. Tears were already overwhelming him. She was really there, holding his face in her hands.

"Abby? Abby, what are you doing here? Did he get you too? I'm so sorry. I never wanted this for you. Have they hurt you?"

"Shh, Connor. No one's got me. I'm here to get you. What's wrong with your arm?"

"Burton… broke it… today, yesterday… I don't know, but it hurts. I can't move it."

Abby leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm going to get you out of here. You're coming home with me. But, I need to get your arms free. It's going to hurt. Just look at me. Keep looking at me, OK?" Connor nodded.

Slowly Abby reached up and started to lift his arms off the hook. He gasped and then screamed out as his fractured arm moved upward. Abby leaned forward and kissed him. Soft and sweet… distracting. She moved her lips against his and swallowed his cries of agony down.

It took only a few seconds and then it was done. He collapsed onto his side and sobbed. So much pain, he was so exhausted. Abby moved to his side to try and get the cable-tie undone. It wouldn't budge. She was panicking. Slow down, she told herself. Just think. She reached into her boot and pulled out the tiny, but sharp, 4 in knife she carried with her ever since she was stuck in the Cretaceous.

"Bastard!" she spat as she worked to cut the tight ring of plastic around Connor's wrists without cutting him too. The movement caused him to cry our again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I've got to get these ties off of you. Can you walk?" Abby glanced at his feet for the first time and realized they were secured to the floor by iron cuffs and a short length of chain just as his neck had been. She had no idea how to get the cuffs off, but she reached down and unclipped the chain that held him to the floor.

"Matt. Becker. I've found Connor, but we're going to need help. I can't get him out of here on my own and he needs medical assistance immediately. He's too weak to walk I think." There was an edge of panic in Abby's voice that was not usually there.

"We're coming to you, just keep him as comfortable as you can. We'll be with you in a moment," came Matt's ever-calm voice.

There was a loud bang, followed by a low rumble and dust and bits of debris rained down on Abby who held herself protectively over Connor's still form. He was trying to move as little as possible. His arm was swollen and the tiniest bit of pressure or movement sent spikes of agony through his entire body.

"Damn it!" Becker shouted into the comm. "He's rigged the place with booby-traps. It's a wonder she even made it to Connor at all. Abby, we're going to be delayed a bit in getting to you. Stay where you are. Do not attempt to move either Connor or yourself. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, just don't let the building fall on us. Get here as quick as you can, please. He's not talking. Connor's never this quiet."

"He'll be fine, just keep him calm," Matt responded.

"Oh, and, Abby, keep an eye out for Burton, my men haven't been able to locate him yet," Becker cautioned.

"I will, but, Becker, what do I do if I see him. All I've got is this useless EMD and a tiny knife. I'm pretty sure if he's armed and determined enough, that won't be enough to stop him."

"Abby," Matt again, "We're coming to you. You just worry about Connor. Becker and I will deal with Burton. Becker was just giving you the heads up."

"Just hurry," Abby finished.

Abby turned her attention back to Connor. His cheeks where wet with tears and he was gritting his teeth and panting from the pain. Abby set down her EMD and held his head in her lap, back to the doorway. She stroked his shoulder gently, trying to determine where the break was. There was too much swelling. She leaned forward and kissed his neck. "I'm sorry I can't make it all go away. I'm here though. I'm not going anywhere. It won't be long now, help's coming. Just stay with me, Connor. Stay with me."

She was so focused on trying to figure out a way to get him comfortable that she never even glimpsed the tall shape that darkened the doorway behind her.

"Well, well, Abby," Philip snarled. "I guess you found my little secret."

"Burton!" Abby spun around to face him, instinctively grabbing her trusted knife instead of the bulky EMD, and placed herself in a defensive position in front of Connor, holding out her knife. She hadn't missed the way Connor had flinched and squeezed his eyes shut at the mere sound of Burton's voice. "You bastard! What have you done to him? Why? How could you? To someone like Connor of all people."

"It's simple really, he's a commodity. I needed him, so I took him. I always get what I want. I have to have the best. He was the best. I attempted to get him to see things my way first, but he was insistent. He wanted to tell you lot everything so that he could stop the anomalies. I simply couldn't have that. It took some time, but I got him to come around to seeing things my way." Philip actually smiled. "You know, I think he's a better lay than you would probably be. Too bad we won't have the chance to find out if that's true or not."

Abby was furious and raised her knife threateningly towards him.

Burton pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. "You should have gone for the EMD. They really are remarkable weapons. I know you all hate them, but electricity is actually quite useful. Isn't that right, Connor."

Connor whimpered and flinched again, keeping his eyes shut. The context of the tiny black burns all over his body suddenly hit Abby.

"You bastard. You won't get away with this. You'll pay."

"I really don't thin so. I was almost done sabotaging this place. I'll be gone before the Boy Scout and Soldier Boy get here. Odds are, none of you will make it out alive, especially you two." Burton lowered the gun so that it was pointing at Abby's chest.

At this close of proximity, even if he shot her first, there was a good chance that it would go right through her and into Connor. Two birds, one stone, she thought sarcastically. Burton apparently had the same idea because his smile went from a smirk to a full on predatory grin as he took aim.

Abby sucked in a deep breath and held her head high as Burton took aim. I love you, Connor, she thought silently, closing her eyes.

The reverb of the deafening gunshot echoed around off the solid stone walls in the tiny cell.

* * *

><p><strong><span>AN 2: OK, so evil author is evil and has left you with an evil cliffhanger. Please hit the review button and tell me what you think. I'll try to have the next bit out by Sunday. That'll be the final chapter. Thanks to those of you who have been reviewing. It really means a lot. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**** This story was written for the Primevalathon community over on LJ. The prompt from Wilde_Shade was: ****Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.**

**WARNING:**** This story contains violence, torture, and m/m ****non-con****. If that is not your thing, then don't read it. However, it is still an Abby/Connor story at heart, so I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt. It is very clear in the story what is happening, but it is not overly porny or excessively graphic. This is a serious subject matter that I tried to address with some degree of decorum. I hope you enjoy the story. Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer:**** Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. **

* * *

><p><strong>Misplaced Trust<strong>

**Chapter 5 **

Abby jumped at the loud sound of the gunshot bouncing and echoing off the stone room. She'd shut her eyes as Philip's finger had closed over the trigger. She didn't feel anything? Was death this painless? Her eyes snapped open as Burton crumpled to the floor in front of her. Standing in his place, was Sir James Lester, a smoking gun in his steady, outstretched arm.

"Lester?" Abby asked in astonishment.

"I just got the arrest warrant for Burton from the minister. I had wanted to deliver it personally." Lester shrugged. "I wonder if I can bill his estate for the blood he just got on my suit?" He put the gun back in his shoulder holster. Abby looked at him puzzled. "I started carrying one after that predator attack a few years ago. I really don't like to have to rely on others for my safety."

Lester glanced down at Burton's bloody form. He had hit him with a single shot just above his right ear. Lester's eyes glided from Burton to Connor laying all too still on the floor behind Abby. He knelt next to Abby and rested his hand on Connor's shoulder. There was a sharp intake of breath from the young man and Lester pulled his hand away.

"His arm's broken. I can't get him comfortable," Abby said worriedly.

"Becker, how far out is that medic of yours?" Lester barked.

"Right around the corner from the mansion, sir. Reardon will be here in just a few minutes. We've almost found a route to you and Abby that's not sabotaged."

"Bloody hell! Becker. I got down here. What the hell is taking you so long?"

"We have more men with us than just a single individual, Lester, and we've encountered some resistance from the last of Burton's men that were still here. We're lucky, it seems Burton was on his way out and most of them were already outside. Becker's men rounded up a bunch of them when they tried to flee the compound just before that first explosion. We're almost to you. Just hang in there and let us do our jobs," Matt calmly replied. He always seemed to be able to diffuse a tense situation.

Lester took a deep breath. He got up from where he was kneeling and took up a defensive position at the doorway so that Abby could focus her attention entirely on Connor.

Abby appreciated the gesture. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked quietly, motioning to Burton's body and indicating the conversation she'd had with him before he'd been killed.

"Enough. Enough to know I made the right decision in ending him," Lester admitted.

"Is that a Walther PPK? Fancy James Bond much?" Abby asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Let's just say MI-5 is an interesting place to spend your 20s. I was hoping for a quiet little upper management assignment when I went to the home office. Instead I end up babysitting mad scientists and dinosaurs."

"Connor showed me the CCTV footage once of you and that predator. You can be pretty badass when you need to be. "

"Remind me to dock his pay for that when he wakes up," Lester commented dryly.

"'M awake," Connor croaked. "Just trying to stay still."

"Connor, just rest, love. Help's on the way. Don't talk," Abby soothed.

Connor nodded and the movement pulled at the muscles in his arm causing new spasms of pain to shoot through his arm. Lester took his jacket off and handed it to Abby so she could cover Connor's battered body.

"Lester? How did you get down here so quickly? I didn't even know you were coming," Abby asked, still in an almost whisper.

Lester smirked a little but his gaze remained steady as he kept watch. "Later. I promise I'll tell you later. Does that satisfy your curiosity for now? Or would you like me to tell you the story instead of protecting you and Connor?

"No, I'm good for now." Abby smiled. Lester really was a mystery to her sometimes, even if he did try to pretend he didn't care.

A few minutes later Matt, Becker and the some of his men reached their location. They had cleared a safe passage to Connor's location in the basement and dealt with the rest of Burton's men. Not three minutes after that, Tom Reardon, the head ARC medic arrived to assess and transport Connor to the hospital. Connor, it seemed, had finally passed out.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Abby sat in Connor's hospital room. They had just brought him in from surgery a few hours ago and he was still expected to be out for a while. They wanted him to rest as much as possible. Becker, Matt, Jess and a handful of other well wishers had slowly filtered out leaving Abby alone in the room with him. She wiped a silent tear from her eye as she thought back over what had been explained to her about Connor's injuries and the abuse he'd sustained over the past couple of months.

How could Burton have done this to him? He'd told her he viewed Connor as a commodity, but this? This was beyond that. She should have pushed harder for them to find Connor. She should have insisted they take a closer look at Burton. Would Connor even be the same after all this? Would he ever truly recover? She'd known what it was like to be abused; her stepfather had made sure she lost her innocence early on, but Connor?

Her reverie was interrupted by a nudge to her shoulder. Abby glanced up and was surprised to see Lester holding out a coffee cup to her.

"You look like you could use a caffeine pick-me-up." Lester scooted a chair over next to her.

"Thank you, for the coffee, and for earlier. After they told me what all he'd been through and then said I couldn't stay… I…"

"I've often thought that hospital policies exist solely to increase others misery. What's the point of having government pull if you don't get to boss a few nurses around occasionally," Lester said with typical dryness.

"Do you think he'll be OK?" Abby asked in a quiet voice, almost as if she was afraid to hear his answer.

"Yes, he's got you. He'll be fine. After all, he has to be. He's got a job to do, doesn't he?"

Abby smiled. Lester was big old softie. They all knew it. None of them dared ever say it to his face except her. He smiled back at her.

"I believe I promised to tell you something."

"You're trying to distract me. But yes, you did."

"I am, and I will."

Abby looked back at Connor, he looked so peaceful. She knew it wouldn't last once he woke. She didn't want to rush that in the slightest. "All right. Let's hear it. How did you get to us before Becker and Matt and avoid Burton's men?"

"I never said I avoided Burton's men." Lester started.

Abby had a feeling he was a very good story teller. She suddenly remembered that he had kids. She wondered if he got to spend enough time with them.

Lester started speaking again. "I'd been there, to Burton's country home a few times, not often, mind you. But, he was always very secretive. When Jess informed me that Connor's message was enough for an arrest warrant, I simply couldn't resist. You lot had already left, and I wasn't about to ask you to turn around. So, I got in my own car and showed up only a few moments behind you all."

Lester smiled to himself, but then looked down at Connor and his expression became grim again. He continued, "I remembered that Burton was always very secretive about his basement. I thought maybe he was doing something illegal down there, but I had no evidence. I assumed secret research or something, not a dungeon chamber. No, I never assumed that. Burton was ruthless, but… But I never thought he was capable of this."

He glanced over at Connor again before continuing. "Burton had mentioned once that he'd made some modifications to the house, but I never knew what. I noticed, the last time I was here, that the lower floor had a storm cellar entrance. It's typically locked, but I thought I'd chance it and see. I surprised one of his men loading a van out back. He pulled a gun on me so I returned the favor and shot him first. That was when the first explosion happened. The door to the sublevel was open and unobstructed, so I went in, moving as quietly and as cautiously as I could."

Lester looked at Abby as if to gage her level of interest now that he was telling the story full out. She nodded for him to go on then turned back to watch Connor continue to sleep. "I saw Burton move in to the room I found you in, and I was going to get the drop on him sooner until I realized you two were in there. I couldn't very well come in guns blazing, I might have shot one or both of you, so I listened. I peeked around the corner twice to get an idea of where you both were in relation to Burton, then, when I couldn't wait any longer, I took the shot."

Abby turned back to Lester. "Thank you. You saved both of our lives." Abby leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't mention it. And I mean that. Don't mention it. The last thing I need is you lot begging me for stories of the old days at MI-5."

"Your secret's safe with me." Abby smiled at him again and turned back to Connor.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Connor woke with a start in a dark room. He didn't cry out, he just started to cry. His arm hurt terribly and he was so tired of being locked in that horrible room. He'd dreamed that Abby had rescued him. She'd untied him and kissed him and then Burton had shown up, then Lester. It was a strange dream. He'd wished it had stayed just him and Abby. It was nice when it had just been the two of them. He moved to curl up and gasped out a small sob as his arm moved.

"Connor?" a voice from the darkness asked. "Connor, are you awake? Do you need me to get a nurse?" Abby. Was she really here? Had all of that not been a dream?

"Please, turn on the light," Connor croaked. His voice sounded hoarse and his throat felt scratchy.

The light flipped on and the most beautiful face in the world stood next to his bed, looking down on him like a guardian angel. Abby reached her hand out and caressed his brow. She ran her fingers lightly through the edge of his hair.

"You OK?" she asked.

"You're really here? That wasn't all a dream. You rescued me?"

"Well, I had help." Abby leaned down and kissed his forehead. "They were all here, even Lester, up until a little while ago. They wanted to wait and see you after surgery. They would still be here, but there was an anomaly call. They'll be back in the morning. We've all had a really long day."

"Surgery? What happened?" Connor asked bewilderedly.

"You said Burton broke your arm. Do you remember?"

Connor glanced down at himself for the first time. Bandages and heavy-duty plastic brace encircled his arm from wrist to shoulder. "I remember my arm hurting and being in your arms. You freed me, but it hurt."

Abby's eye's watered a bit. "I'm sorry about that. There was no way to move you that wouldn't have hurt."

"It's not your fault. It's OK. So… surgery?" he prompted again.

"Burton apparently twisted it behind you pretty badly. You had a spiral fracture of the left humerus and a dislocated shoulder and elbow. They had to operate. You now have several pins in your arm as well as a titanium plate." Abby leaned over and kissed him again. "You're going to have one badass scar, my love," she whispered against his lips. "I missed you." Her voice broke on the last part. When she pulled back Connor had tears tracking down his cheeks again.

"I missed you too," he choked. "Abby, I… the things they… I—"

Abby put a finger to his lips. "Not tonight, Connor. Tonight you rest. You're safe. I'll protect you. I'm not going anywhere." She kissed the tears from his cheeks, first one side then the other.

"But… what about Philip? Did they…?"

"He's dead. He can't ever hurt you again. He won't ever come between us again. Now, stop worrying about everything and close your eyes."

Connor lay back and closed his eyes. Abby flipped the light out. "No!" He sat up again.

"Connor, what's the matter?" Abby said flipping the light back on.

"I just… I don't want to be in the dark. I don't like the dark. I know it's stupid, but just… leave the light on. I don't want to be in the dark any more. Please?"

Abby nodded, her expression silently acknowledging that she understood and her heart broke for him. She came back over to the bed. He scooted over as much as the small bed and his injured arm would allow him and Abby crawled up next to him.

"Abby, I really need you to know some things and I need to tell them to you now."

"Connor, there's already quite a lot that I already know. The doctors briefed me and I saw the condition you were in. I found you, remember?"

"I know you found me." He kissed her temple briefly. "But **I** need to say it, and I need to say it to you."

Abby nodded, relenting. She really didn't want to do this tonight, but he needed it and she wouldn't deny him his release.

"You know I got into the car with him willingly?" he asked.

Abby nodded. "Yeah, I've watched the CCTV footage from the lot about a hundred times."

He nodded back acknowledging her response. "Well, it's didn't start off as bad as what you saw. I didn't even know anything was wrong. I was such an idiot. I-"

"Connor, I'll have none of that. You are not an idiot. You are a brilliant man. Burton had us all fooled."

"Not you. You never really trusted Burton."

"No, I didn't, but I didn't think he was capable of this, what he did to you, none of us did."

Connor sighed.

"I'm sorry, go on. Just don't put yourself down like that. I love you," Abby finished, kissing him gently. He smirked a little, but didn't really respond to her kiss like he usually did.

"OK, no self loathing… for now… Anyways. I tried to call you; he must have had a call jammer or something. We talked for a while, then when he realized I wanted to tell you all everything and that I really did want to stop the anomalies, not use them, he… he drugged me. I woke up chained to a wall in one of the basement rooms. I wouldn't cooperate. Philip told me I would, whether I liked it or not and that it would keep getting worse until I did. They drugged me again, but instead of knocking me out, it made me sick, like really sick. They did that for days; I still wouldn't cooperate. Then… then they took me to another room and… and it got worse."

Connor proceeded to tell her of all the atrocities inflicted upon him and the vile ways in which he was abused. Abby listened in sober silence, not daring to interrupt the tide of horrors that flowed out of him. She held him close, comforting him when his speech became halting and he could barely sob out the words. Painstakingly he heaved and choked through his story as best he could. When he'd exhausted himself and said no more, Abby felt free to speak.

"It's OK, Connor. No one will think any less of you, especially not me. I'm just glad I have you back. We'll work through everything together. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you," she promised. Abby snuggled in closer to him. "Connor, you know about me and my stepdad, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I know what he did to you."

"Then you know that I've been there too, yeah?"

Connor hugged her a little tighter with his one good arm, a single tear skipped down his cheek. "Yeah, I know. Is it bad that I wish I didn't?" he said, his voice breaking a little.

"No," Abby said, her own tears moistening her cheeks. "I wish you didn't either. But, I can tell you… it does get better. You can feel whole again. You'll be OK. Not right away, but eventually. And I'll still be there holding your hand."

He laughed a little nervous laugh and wiped his eyes.

"Now, Connor, you need to rest. Close your eyes and lay back. I'll be here when get up. Promise." She kissed him again and as he laid back. She snuggled down and laid her head on his chest, taking great care to not jostle his arm.

Connor was wearing the thin hospital greens they'd provided, and he could feel her warmth through the lightweight material. He inhaled deeply and kissed the top of her head. She smelled just like he'd remembered, but so much stronger and better. The horrors of the last several weeks could wait to be dealt with. He was tired and sore and completely content with her in his arms. The details could be sorted later.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Connor spent a week in the hospital recovering from his arm injury and the general abuse his body had suffered during his captivity. True to her word, Abby rarely left his side. He had a few emotional outbursts, and she gave him some time to calm down, that was about it. Every night, mostly thanks to Lester's pulling of strings, whether Connor liked it or not, she was there in his room, either sleeping on the bed with him, or next to it in the guest chair or fold out bed. Sometimes he fought this because of bad flashbacks that he didn't want her to see, or he was just having a bad day and was down on himself; other times he was just scared and ashamed. Most nights he ended up falling asleep with Abby next to him. She'd win the battle he seemed to constantly be fighting with himself for if he wanted her there or not. The truth was, he couldn't bear to be without her. Sometimes he felt dirty and unworthy of her love, but she was always there, pushing back. She loved him. She'd told him so every day since he'd woken up. But she did more than just tell him; she'd showed him.

Abby had learnt to check his bandages and help him in and out of his brace properly. She'd set up his meetings with the hospital counselor for him. He went to the meetings with the counselor at the hospital and they discussed setting up appointments with an outside therapist for continued counseling.

At first, he'd said yes, but then, when it was time to actually make the appointments with the therapist, he'd backed out completely, not because he was angry, but because he wasn't ready to deal with some of the lasting implications of his ordeal yet. He also wanted Abby there, but was torn because he didn't know how, nor was he ready, to burden Abby with his fears. He wasn't ready to face the possibility of HIV or AIDS, he didn't want to tell her how sick some of the medication actually made him feel, both emotionally as well as physically. He knew she was aware of what some of the meds were for, but she let him be.

Now, after an extended stay at home on bed rest, he was physically ready to go back to work. He still not even attempted to see a therapist, the counseling had stopped when he'd been cleared by the hospital. Every time the subject came up, Connor would change it. Abby watched with sadness as the time got closer for him to go back to work. The more he thought about it the more his arm hurt, or the more nauseated he would become. Sometimes he'd make it as far as the front door, but then he'd back out and come up with another excuse to wait another day.

Finally, Abby put her foot down. "Connor. You have to stop and talk to me. What is the problem? You're avoiding everything and everyone. I'm convinced that if you didn't already live with me, you'd be avoiding me as well."

Connor huffed out a breath and hung his head. "It's not on purpose. I'm trying. I really am. I just get anxious and nauseated every time I think about going back. Everyone knows what happened and what am I going to say to that? I want to go back to work; I just don't know if I can. I'll try, OK. I'll try tomorrow."

"Connor, I know you're not faking or anything. Just relax. Everyone misses you. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"They're going to look at me differently."

"Connor, you're going to be fine. Yes, it may feel awkward at first, but I'll be right there with you the whole time."

Connor nodded in acquiescence. "I'd like that. OK, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Abby agreed.

The next morning, Connor got in the car with Abby and headed in to work, but as soon as he saw the ARC building he started to tense up. He was dripping with sweat and in the middle of a full-blown panic attack that he was desperately trying to keep under control by the time his lab and Burton's old office came into view. He couldn't breathe. He ran from the building with Abby close behind him.

He didn't stop at the car; he ran all the way to the edge of the parking lot, hunched over and promptly threw up his breakfast.

Abby was right behind him, her hand on his back, trying to soothe him as best she could.

"Go away, Abby."

"No."

"Can't you see? I'm ruining your life. I can't even go to work. I can't do anything. I'm broken, Abby. I'm not me. I don't know where me is anymore. I don't know who I am. I lived at the mercy of someone else for so long, I don't know how to just simply be. I'm constantly waiting for the next thing to happen, for the next disaster to come. I hate living like this and I'm not going to make you do it either. I'll never finish Cutter's work at this rate… I couldn't stop Philip. I couldn't defend myself. What if next time it's you? If I can't protect myself, then I won't be able to protect you. I'm done for. All I've ever accomplished was for nothing. I don't even know if I want to live anymore. You deserve more than that, better than that, you deserve someone who can take care of you."

"Connor, shut up. Now you listen to me for a moment." She turned him around and pulled him down to sit on the concrete. "OK, so you're not the same. You're still Connor, even if you don't know it. Even if that person is lost to you. Do you remember what your first words were to me when I found you in that room?"

Connor shook his head miserably. He hated the flashbacks of what had happened in that room.

"You asked me if Burton had got to me, you apologized for it, and then you asked if he'd hurt me." Connor flinched when Abby mentioned Burton. "Your first thought was not for you, or the pain he'd put you in. Your first thought was me, someone other than yourself. That is who Connor Temple is. Even if you have forgotten or can't see yourself anymore, I haven't. I'll be your guide back to who you are. I love you. You've always been there for me, it's my turn to return the favor."

Connor looked up at her, his dark eyes still full of fear and trepidation even after all these weeks. He nodded and she pulled him into her arms, cradling him like she did in the cell, being careful not to jostle his arm, which was still in the large brace and would be for several more weeks yet.

"Come on," Abby said after a few minutes. "Let's go for a walk. I think we could both use some fresh air."

They once again bypassed the car and exited the ARC facilities on foot. They walked to a nearby park in silence, holding each other's hand.

Abby guided Connor to a park bench and they both sat.

"I don't think I can go back to work, at least not in the actual building, not yet. I'll try, but I'm not ready yet." Connor was reclining on the bench, his head in her lap and his braced arm positioned out over the edge of the bench.

"Then you're not ready. You don't even have to work right now if you don't want to. We'll figure something out." Abby leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

"I want to work, just every time I do, I see his face, leering at me. I feel him touching me, his hands on me. It's just not the same. It's tainted everything I've ever worked for. I don't know how to move on." Connor shuddered at the memories.

"You don't have too. Not yet. It's only been a few weeks. Trust me. It will take time. You're still healing, both physically and mentally. Remember what the therapist said, 'It's not going to happen over night, and that's OK.'" Abby gently pushed him up to a sitting position. "I'm going to make a call, just wait here, OK."

She kissed his lips and he kissed her back this time, fully engaging in their physical contact for the first time in almost a month. He'd been too afraid to do anything beyond platonic comforting embraces since his return home; anything more had made him tremble with nerves and recoil from her completely. "I love you, Abby. I'm sorry things aren't the same."

"They will be, or they'll be better. I'm not going anywhere, remember."

Connor nodded and smiled at her, a shadow of the bright smile he used to have.

Her fingers caressed his cheek as she got up and walked a few feet away. She took out her mobile and dialed Lester's extension.

"James Lester. Who's speaking?"

"It's Abby."

"Ah, Abby, I trust Connor is with you?"

"Yes, sorry, today's another no go. Actually that's what I needed to talk to you about."

"What do you need? As much as I hate to admit it, I would prefer it if Connor didn't go loony."

"Time."

"I'm sorry?"

"Time. He needs time, Lester. He's not ready."

"I thought you might say that."

"And he needs me with him," Abby finished. It wasn't really a question, but she wanted his approval.

"Yes, of course. You two take all the time you need. Your jobs will be waiting here for you. I'll arrange for therapy. You both need to go. I'm insisting. You take the time off you need, but you get him to therapy. I'll help offset your expenses, surely you haven't spent all that back pay yet?"

"No, we haven't, and yes, I'll make sure we get to therapy. I think we can manage that." Abby paused. "Connor's new device, have Matt or any of the other scientists figured anything out?"

"No, but Connor's progress from where we were before is astonishing. It won't be long. We'll be fine until you get back. We may even work it all out."

Abby turned to look back at Connor. He was sitting on the bench, his head back and relaxed staring up at the sky. He glanced over at her and smiled. For a moment it was the wide dimpled smiled she'd missed so much. He leaned his head back again and closed his eyes, content and peaceful for the time being.

"OK. Thanks, Lester. I'll keep you updated."

"Oh and, Abby, take care of him. We need him. I don't think he always remembers that."

"I will, and I'll let him know you said so." She laughed a little and saw Connor's lip twitch into a small grin at the sound of her laughter.

"Don't you dare or I really will get my lawyers involved."

"Bye, Lester."

"Yep."

The phone line disconnected and Abby shut her mobile, walking back over to where Connor sat with his eyes still closed.

She sat down on the bench and curled up next to him, her head on his chest.

"OK, no work until you're ready, really ready."

"What? Who was that on the phone?"

"Lester. He says we can have as much time as we need, but we have to go to therapy."

"I'm not… wait. We?"

"Hmm mmm."

"You're staying home too?"

"Yeah. Lester said he'd cover our expenses and our jobs will be waiting, so long as you, and me, go to therapy. I figured we could go on a holiday first. Just the two of us."

"Hmm. That sounds nice. Can we go somewhere quiet, where I can see the sun and go outside whenever I want? I don't want to be stuck inside all the time, you know?"

Abby leaned up and kissed him. "Yeah, I know. I think I know the perfect place. I read about it." She kissed him again, this time on his nose. "How about." Another kiss, his right cheek. "A private villa." A kiss on his left cheek. "On the Mediterranean." A kiss to his chin. "In the south of France? Hmm." A long lingering kiss on his lips finished her exploration of his face.

Connor laughed, actually laughed. She'd missed that sound. It was as if her giving him permission to not be OK had lifted a weight off his shoulders. He wasn't OK, by any means, but he would be. She'd make sure of that. She loved him, and she knew he loved her. Things would be tough, but they'd get through it. Connor put his arms around her and leaned down to continue the kiss.

The End (for now)

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: There will be a sequel to this fic out sometime this summer (I hope, currently the WIP folder is quite long). I'm going to do my best to keep the tone not porny because that just doesn't feel right with the tone of this story. I haven't even decided yet if there will be any smut at all. But, after I inflicted so much pain on Connor, it's only fair that he get a full on comfort fic. Thanks so much for reading and even more thanks if you decide to hit the review button and tell me what you think about this story. It only takes a second to hit the review button and leave your thoughts. Thanks so much to those of you who have done that and stuck with me through this brutal story. :-) *hugs* You guys keep me wanting to write. **


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